Don't Flatter Yourself
by betise
Summary: Mild slash. Timeshipping. Not much to say.


The Warden stretched long legs onto his office desk as he groaned exhaustedly, slipping muggy glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose. An uncomfortable sweat had built up at his collarbone and he dragged a sore limb over to smear the dampness away.

After his absence of about a couple hours, SuperJail had gone to hell. Just _how _he had no idea, but it was definitely not passable and he had spent an entire week in attempts to repair the damage.

Sighing, the jailor shoved his glasses back on and reached into his pants pocket. He pulled out the time stick he had somehow manage to salvage and rolled dark irises over the cold metal, gently running a gloved finger across its ridges.

He had _finally,_ _finally _managed to break away from Alice and Jared and he wasn't about to let the short respite go to waste. The dark-haired man figured he could kill a good thirty minutes paying an unprecedented visit to his older self, especially since he had been itching to physically interact with the glorious tyrant.

Hopping out of the chair with so much force that it rolled back and crashed out of the window, the Warden furrowed his brow and allowed himself to focus his concentration. For a brief moment he felt his skin singe as the very seams of his existence snapped, but he sighed with slight relief as his eyes twitched upward to meekly gaze at his doppelganger.

"I need you to-"

The apparition silenced him with a light touch of the shoulder, chuckling silently and gesturing for him to go on. He knew, and the Warden _knew _that he knew. They had been through so much together, after all.

Barely tipping his head in a nod of acknowledgement, the dark-haired man flicked the golden appliance and flared out of his current timeline.

The Warden felt singed hair prick at the top of his head like a frightened animal and patted it down, smoothing his purple coat in an attempt to look at least somewhat presentable.

He wavered in front of the tall, chamber-like entrance to an office that he knew was his own, but was singularly distinct in its presence.

He was hesitant about knocking but doubly hesitant to simply barge in unannounced, so he timidly cleared his throat as a gesture of making his presence known and creaked the door open.

Practically choking on his own saliva as he tripped over himself, the normally self-assured man felt his head grow hazy and warm.

He brought a hand over to brush off any speck of dust that had gathered on his clothing after he had grazed the floor so unflatteringly but found there was nothing _to _brush off. The floor, unlike his own paper-riddled infestation, was completely impeccable.

Chewing at the hint of a pout, the brightly-clad individual mustered the willpower to properly bring himself back on his feet.

A heavy sigh echoed through the wide, clear room and the Warden pulled inky pupils over to glimpse the back of a tall blood-red seat.

"I've been expecting _this," _a voice conclusively more sober than his rang out. The chair twisted forward until the gap-toothed airhead was able to properly observe the full extent of his... _change._

"_Imbecile_," the man spit out, malice creeping into each syllable of the slur.

The Warden could only stand there, entranced, as his breath hitched and subsided in his throat. He was fairlycertain his chest was heaving all on its own but he didn't have the desire or willpower to make it stop.

What he saw looking back at him was... a man. A man who was definitely him, but also definitely _not _him.

_His _features were more defined, more handsome.

He had no chance loosening his jaw enough to construct even the simplest of sentences, no wish or want to do so. He observed long lashes quivering in some hue of rage, dark eyes set ablaze with fury.

Grumbling in a fashion that made the Warden's heartbeat skitter off into infinite directions, the older man pointedly folded elbows against his desk, shoulder-blades respectably arched.

"Pray tell, _fool,_" the military man groused, desecrating the younger individual with a penetrating stare. "If the Time Police forced their way into this room in, let's say, _five_ seconds... what _exactly _would you plan on doing?"

He could hardly think, much less bare to process the biting language being directed at him. He enjoyed the other's lingering eye contact more than he should have, given that the man looked like he was about to stab a hole in his chest.

Trying his best not to quaver in a mixture of thrilling trepidation and high regard, the Warden popped his mouth open to form a reply. "I've... got it under control," he replied slowly, so as not to jumble his words. His mind was a whirl, a frenzy of elevated sensory perception.

Allowing a humorless grin to usurp his lips just as he had the right to rule, the Warden's future self pushed away from the desk he was seated at. He rolled his shoulders back with the same bemused expression, taking time to languidly crack his neck before sidling up to the unsophisticated mongrel that held but a fleck of his potential.

Chuckling darkly and stooping over to grip the other's chin in a demanding palm, the warlike man spoke. "Control?" Gloved fingers trailed down to squeeze the younger male's throat. "I almost forgot how naive I used to be... always thought everything would work out the way I planned, always optimistic..." He pressed harder until he could feel the artless counterpart squirm in his daze, adam's apple bobbing as the smallest of whimpers forced its way out.

His grin waned to a slightly ironic smile. "Oh, I pity you. I really do..." The taller of the two released his thickening grip, thrusting the other back a couple steps before treading over once more. This time he managed to pin the daydreamer against an extensive library of encyclopedias he kept for his off days.

The Warden thought he might pass out as the other began poking at his features with some degree of curiosity. He pulled at a heated cheek, pinched a reddening nose, tousled the tendrils of his _own _dark hair with an index.

It was impossible for the childish male _not_ to allow himself a gratified, hazy sigh. He felt his knees begin to dip as some odd form of ecstasy overcame him.

"Stand still," the autocrat commanded, digging gloved nails into a slowly reddening collarbone.

For once, he did as he was told, quite literally shaking in his shoes as the other whispered out small, gruff observations to himself.

The bolder man brushed the back of his hand over the Warden's fluttering lashes, who showed little restraint in groaning appreciatively at the softer ministration.

"You really _do _resemble me, don't you?"

Barely panting as the other pulled away, the Warden pricked his lower lip with gap teeth. He knew it was a rhetorical question and the other didn't expect him to reply, but his heart continued thrumming faster and faster in his chest.

"Now, what was it you wanted?" The tyrant gave him a slightly less loathing look, because really, he wasn't about to deny _himself _anything he wanted. Even if that self was currently a melted puddle of overwhelmed sensation.

Gulping and blinking with slight incredulity, the Warden eyed his counterpart with a shy smile. "I just came to admire your achievements... _our... _achievements?"

"Ah, yes," the man replied, smirking with a slightly more genuine light to his eyes. "And there are so many." He led the shivering younger male toward the back of his office and casually tipped a finger at large expanse spread out under the windowpane.

"See for yourself."

Far beneath their feet was a widely interspersed battlefield. The Warden ogled the rough, barren landscape with wide eyes, taking in the vast militia of armed robots. In the distance he saw what looked to be Jared's figure cock a loaded rifle at an enemy and shoot the opposer's head clean off.

"_Wow_," the shorter man panned out, for lack of a better term. "Absolutely phenomenal..."

Sighing contently as he authorized his ego to bloat at the compliment, the older male beamed. He placed his hands on his hips and turned around to lean against the dank window. It had begun to rain and the land was becoming quite marshy.

"I know."

For a moment they merely stood there in awkward silence. The Warden had been trying extremely hard to keep his teeth from chattering at how excellenthe had grown up to be. He almost felt... _empowered._

The taller male propped himself back on his feet as he surveyed the other, who scratched nervously at his bright complexion, lower lip quavering.

Licking the rough of his mouth as he continued to stare down the more frivolous man, the dictator straightened his expression to one of pure dispassion.

He laughed to himself, brief and low as he cocked his head toward the individual in question, edging forward so that their foreheads touched, noses brushed. "Think they'd mind if we kissed?"

"_Absolutely_," the Warden replied, tittering skittishly and rubbing a gloved hand through disheveled hair as cold lips mashed against his.


End file.
